


The First Case (Sherlock x Reader)

by WhereIPutTheOtherStuff



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, Crime, Crime Scene, F/M, Nervousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 00:23:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12593908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereIPutTheOtherStuff/pseuds/WhereIPutTheOtherStuff





	The First Case (Sherlock x Reader)

Moving to London from another part of England had been tricky but it was worth it. You now live at 221C Baker Street in London,  the apartment below the famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes and his friend Doctor John Watson. After living there for a year you had become good friends with them both.  Though with Sherlock it could be difficult to tell. After a busy week at work you were glad it was the weekend. You arrived home after a morning of shopping. It was quiet, too quiet. "Boys still out?“ you ask Mrs Hudson as you passed her in the hallway. “I’m afraid so, dear. They needed to present their findings to the police in person. Something about a thumb.” Mrs Hudson’s words trailed off whilst she shook her head. "Have you eaten yet? I was going to run some casserole upstairs so they’ll have something warm to eat when they got home. I made far too much.“ you add.  "That sounds delicious.  You are too good to us. I’ll grab some after I finish the washing.” she replied. 

Opening the door to your flat,  the smell of food hit your nostrils and awoke your hungry stomach. After decanting the casserole into containers, you write a note to stick on top. ‘2 mins in the microwave. Enjoy. ~ (Y/N)’  
After finishing your meal you walked up into 221B with the containers and placed them on the kitchen top. Your mind wandered as you looked around their apartment, searching for any containers from previous meals. John was always good at returning them but you just wanted to check before you did the washing up. Was it that Sherlock couldn’t eat during a case or after a case? You could never quite remember. ‘Oh well’ you thought to yourself, ‘atleast it’s there if he wants it’.  
  
After washing up in your apartment you begin to read a book. At the moment it was one about the history of the Victorians. You loved to learn about things and expand your mind. Suddenly you jump as your mobile phone vibrates with a new text. Glancing at your phone the message read 'Meeting upstairs. - SH’. Staring at the text in confusion at its urgency your mobile vibrates again. 'John reminded me to thank you for the meal. - SH’  
Walking up the stairs you chuckle to yourself. Surely he could have come downstairs and told you himself. Opening the door you see your friends. Sherlock a tall man with chiselled cheeks and curly black hair. Also John who’s a shorter man with light brown hair. Both of them were stood in the middle of the room with their coats on ready to leave.   
  
You stared at them with a nervous smile as they turned to face your direction. “I’m glad you liked the food.” you said in a quiet voice. There was another moment of awkward silence. “Sherlock?” John said in encouraging voice. Sherlock was pacing around the room. Was he actually nervous? What on earth could he be nervous about? You looked at the both of them and John gave a light kick to Sherlocks leg as he walked past, making him stop.   
  
“(Y/N). We were wondering if you would like to accompany us on a case. You see John is going to be a lot busier soon and he may not be able to join me on cases so much.” Sherlock said with a hint of hesitation in his voice. You were confused. You have always found what the boys do to be fascinating but was never sure if you could be the right person for it. “Wouldn’t Molly be better suited for it? I’m not sure if I’d be any good or be able to keep up.” you ask shyly. “Nonsense” Sherlock interjected. “Molly lives too far away and she’s not quite right for the job. Also you’re kind of smart, I guess.“ "Wow Sherlock, you sure know how to charm a girl.” you say with playful sarcasm. John laughed quietly at the remark. “What’s the case?” you asked reluctantly. "A woman’s body has been found in an apartment. There have been several serious blows to the head.“ Sherlock said in an unchanging voice. You took a moment to think. Even though it was obvious that the men were desperate to go and investigate. It sounded graphic and very gorey. "I’ll give it a go.” you sighed with a nervous smile.   
  
Luckily you grabbed your purple coat and notebook on your way out as the autumn breeze was chilly. Sherlock hailed a cab and opened the car door for you. As he quickly walked round the other side. “I think I’ll sit next to (Y/N) this time.” John said before Sherlock could get to the door. Every time you went out as a trio Sherlock would always insist on sitting next to you in the taxi. It made no sense as he would be on his phone the entire time, either texting or researching in silence. So you could not think of a reason for his current sulking expression.   
  
“Don’t worry. I know that you will be great. Stopping Sherlock from getting too full of himself… that can be difficult.” John said as he smiled at you. There was always a warmth and friendly attitude from John, something that Sherlock lacked a bit. You were always intrigued by the story of how they met. It must be hard for Sherlock as John has found 'the one’ in Mary. He was losing his best friend. You can recall the seemingly endless number of times John had encouraged Sherlock to text someone known as 'the Woman’ but despite his interest he always refused. “I’m just nervous. Of course I find it interesting what you both do but there is no way that I can be as good as you. I…I just don’t want to disappoint Sherlock.” you admitted. You both notice Sherlock flinch in the seat in front of you. He nearly turned his head round but stopped himself for some reason.   
  
It calmed your nerves as you stared out of the car window. You loved the grand architecture of London, especially the way the autumn sun illuminated it. The streets were busy with locals and tourists. A lovely Saturday indeed. As the cab turned a corner the peaceful scene turned into a morbid one. It pulled up outside a building with yellow police tape surrounding the outside of it. You could see the familiar grey peppered hair of Greg Lestrade, detective inspector of Scotland Yard,  entering the building.   
  
Stepping out of the car you see another face that you vaguely recognise. It was a man with brown hair and beard, you think his name was Philip Anderson. You remember seeing him in 221B and he was heavily scrutinised by Sherlock. Perhaps one day Sherlock will tell you why he doesn’t like him so much.  "Great to see you here.“ Philip said extending his arm. You both shook hands. Being polite you smiled at him kindly, which was reflected by a wide grin that spread across his face. "Don’t even think about it Anderson.” Sherlock sneered in a low growl as he speedily walked past both of you. Confused by his response, you quietly followed Sherlock and John into the building.   
  
The rooms were small so you stood in the doorway as people stood in front you. John was taking notes and Sherlock was circling was you presumed was the crime scene,  as you couldn’t see because people were in the way. Copying John you take out your notebook and pen and begin to write down your own observations, whilst Sherlock got out his small magnifying glass. It was truly brilliant how Sherlocks mind worked, picking out every detail. Even those which would appear invisible to others. You felt more relaxed as Sherlock made his deductions aloud. “Can everyone leave? There is far too much stupid in the room. Graham I’ll let you know what I deduce in a minute” Sherlock said suddenly. It must have been a common occurrence as people immediately left. Lestrade walked past you mumbling “It’s Greg. He’s known me for years and he knows it’s Greg.”  
You backed further out of the doorway but John encouraged you to come in and watch what he does.   
  
Now that it was just you, Sherlock and a John you could finally see the crime scene fully. There was a woman’s body lifeless on the floor. Her head had been smashed in several times with a heavy blunt object and blood spatters surrounded her. You were right. The scene was graphic and gorey. Despite hearing all of the details of the case and knowing what you were going to, something unexpected happened.   
  
The colour began to drain from your face and your eyes widened. Your body was screaming to run but you were glued to the spot. Physically unable to look away from the scene that was in front of you. The only part of you moving was your hand as it continued to fill your notebooks pages with notes. You weren’t squeamish, it was because of something else. Your mind knew that this was not a movie or a video game. This wasn’t just a body on the floor, she was somebody’s mother, daughter, aunt,  friend. Somebody somewhere was crying in grief because the woman who was lying in front of you had been murdered. Sherlock continued to make his deductions but his voice now sounded like a mumble in the distance. Unable to write any more, you put your pen and notebook in you coat pocket.   
Your reaction was unlike you, perhaps it was the initial shock of it all. Eyes still staring at the scene,  your breathing became irregular and your body began to tremble. Maybe you thought to yourself, maybe I am too human for this.  

 "There was no forced entry which could only mean what (Y/N)?“ Sherlock said loudly crouching over the body whilst tilting his head up to look at you. He must of asked you that question a couple of times. "The victim must of known her attacker or had a key to the building.” you reply in a monotone voice, your body still rigid like a statue.   
Sherlocks eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern as a look of worry spread across his face. He walked up to you, though you didn’t really notice it. It felt like you were in a daze.   
  
“(Y/N)?” Sherlock said as he stood in front of you and took one of your hands in his and gently stroked your cheek. “(Y/N)?” he repeated as he squeezed your hand, snapping you out of your trance. Your body still trembled but your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Putting an arm around you he pulled you into a hug. Feeling his chest against yours, you copied his steady breathing which stopped your body from trembling. “I’m sorry” you whispered “I’m not sure what came over me. I’m so sorry I’ll be better next time, I really will. Please let there be a next time."   
You could feel Sherlock smiling. "It’s exciting, isn’t it.” he chuckled.    
  
Reaching into your coat pocket, you pull out your notebook and pressed it against his chest as you pulled away from the hug. “My deductions.” you said with a nervous smile. You didn’t realise just how many pages you had filled, it looked to be at least ten. The three of you walked outside and hailed another cab. Greg had already left to go to another crime scene, so Sherlock would text him his findings. John allowed Sherlock to sit in the back with you for this car ride. You nervously twiddled your thumbs as Sherlock flicked through the pages of your notebook. Suddenly there was a look of surprise on his face as his eyes darted to look at you and then the notebook once again. His lips curled up into a smirk. “I wouldn’t worry (Y/N).” he said. “I think that you will definitely be joining me at the next crime scene.”


End file.
